


I had a dream I was your hero

by myrish_lace



Series: Movie Nights [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Movie Night, One Shot, Public Display of Affection from Robb and Margaery, Robb's a bit of a jerk here, Scary Movies, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-07 06:47:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11053533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon, Sansa, Robb and Margaery meet each week for move night at Robb's place. Sansa has to endure Margaery's over-the-top public displays of affection while sitting quietly next to her crush, Jon Snow. Tonight, a scary movie changes the dynamic.





	I had a dream I was your hero

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amymel86](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/gifts).



> This is like the tropiest trope-filled fluff here people. But I had a lot of fun writing it, and it was a great break from a Very Serious Fic I'm working on! Thanks to Amymel for the prompt! 
> 
> This is a prequel for "Let me call you sweetheart," my other movie night fic, so if you want to know what happens next, click on the "Next work" arrow :) I'm making a Movie Nights series out of these. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (title from Sophie B. Hawkins' song "Damn, I Wish I Was Your Lover")

* * *

"Don’t mind me, I’ll just sit on your lap!"

Sansa was glad the room was dark enough to hide her scowl as Margaery slid onto Robb’s lap and started pawing at him.

 _We get it,_ she thought, _you’re in love, great, could you please stop showing off on movie night when I have to sit a good eight inches away from Jon on this side of the couch_?

The four of them got together each week, squeezing onto Margaery’s sofa and snacking on the amazing popcorn Margaery had. The delicious, crunchy snack was a small solace for Sansa as she watched Jon maintain the distance between them like it was some kind of religious requirement.

She deserved it, she supposed. She hadn’t been all that kind to him when they were children. She’d been popular. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Jon had been bookish. Shy. Nerdy. He only hung out with his best friend Sam. Sansa had tried over and over to get him to talk when Robb dragged him to family dinner. She'd even ribbed him in a good-natured way about not having a girlfriend.

Which was some pretty sharp irony, considering he’d come back from his second year of college with a head full of gorgeous black curls and some sort of magic that transformed him into an Adonis. Not that she’d looked. She’d gawked, actually, at the Stark summer home, when Jon descended the pool in blue swim trunks.

When she’d asked him about it (once she could get her mouth to close) he’d shrugged and muttered something about hitting the gym a lot when his girlfriend left him.

He didn’t try to turn it into a pickup line, though. Or not-so-subtly flex in front of her, like other guys did. Which was great. Understandable, too, especially since he probably thought of her like an irritating little sister. She wasn’t disappointed. Not in the slightest.

She sighed. _Who am I kidding_? She wished every week that he’d make some kind of overture as the screen flickered. But he didn’t. He’d smile warmly at her when she sat down, in a way that made her tummy flip. Then Total Silence Protocol during the film. Afterwards he’d sometimes ask her in a halting, endearing way about her classes, until Margaery announced who’d be making the movie pick next week.

Which is how they ended up watching Scream. It had been Margaery’s turn to choose. She normally leaned towards foreign films or romantic comedies. But no, this week it had to be a horror film.

”C’mon, Sans,” Robb had teased her last week when she'd gone white as a sheet. “You’re not still stuck in your ‘need a nightlight at bedtime’ stage right?”

She’d given Robb an icy, haughty stare, and he’d backed down.

But now, as the images started to flicker on the big flat-screen TV, Sansa felt queasy. She was terrible about horror films. They bypassed all her good sense and turned her into a quivering ball of fear.

She set her bowl of popcorn on the side table. She could handle this. It’d be fine. _Breathe. Breathe_. The movie wasn't even that scary, based on the reviews she’d read online.

 _Oh god_. There was a girl trapped in the house. Of course there was, it was the start to every cheesy horror movie ever.

And Sansa was petrified.

“Hey, you okay?” Jon’s voice had gotten deeper. And Jon Snow sounding sexy right now was not helping. She realized too late her hands were shaking as she waved him off.

“Fine, Jon. Fine.” She plastered a smile on her face. They turned back to the screen.

Even the sounds of Robb and Margaery vigorously french-kissing couldn't pull her out of the movie. The girl on the screen panicked. 

Sansa shuddered. _She’s going to die_. _She’s going to die in that house and she can see her parents coming up the driveway and they can’t save her!_

She let out a small yelp the first time that hideous mask appeared. She felt a warm, rough hand close over hers.

“Sansa, we can stop. Turn off the movie.” Jon had his head bent towards hers. He was a whole six inches over the neutral zone.

She shook her head. She and Robb were locked in a childish battle of wills lately, and she couldn't let Robb win. “I can’t let them know I’m a wimp, Jon.”

She could just make out his smile. “So I’ll tell them it’s me."

"You?" She squeaked.  

"Yeah. Why not?"

Because most guys would want to be macho, she thought. Would try to put their arm around her or make some other obvious play. Not offer themselves up as a scaredy-cat in front of their friends. 

"Let's tough it out. Would you–" god, she was really going to ask this, wasn't she– “I think it would help if you kept holding my hand." 

"Sure." And thankfully, Jon's hand was thoroughly distracting. When the fear factor started to ramp up again – what was it with that creepy mask, it did things to her – Jon traced the underside of her hand with his thumb. Sansa wasn't sure what he did to get calluses, but she was appreciative. She shivered when he rubbed small circles on her palm.

It almost kept her mind off the movie. Almost. But then the throat slitting started, and she recoiled, shrinking into the couch cushion.

"Turn it off, Robb." Jon's voice echoed in the room. Robb's tongue was halfway down Margaery's throat, so he didn't notice.

And now there was blood everywhere. _Everywhere_. Ugh, how did people enjoy these? Sansa squeezed her eyes shut. 

"Oi! Off!" Jon's bark surprised Sansa enough that her eyes flew open. Robb finally turned his head. He seemed dazed, but Margaery was perfectly composed. She stopped the movie with a delicate flick of the remote. She turned on the lights. The screen was blessedly black. No knives, no masks, no blood.

Sansa's heart rate slowed. Jon loosened his grip, giving her the chance to pull away now that they could all see each other. Instead, on an impulse, she laced her fingers with his. She didn't want to let him go. Jon was staring straight at Margaery, but she thought she felt him squeeze her hand gently. 

Sansa must have looked worse than she thought, because Margaery leaned forward. "Sweetie, are you ok?" 

Robb's obnoxious smirk was forming when Jon spoke up. "Yeah, I'm all right. Thank Marg." 

Margaery blinked. “Good, that’s good, dear.”

Robb piped up. "But Sans–"

“–Helped me keep it together. Sorry, slasher films aren't my thing." Jon shrugged.

Robb snorted. "And since when did you become such a baby, Snow?"

Margaery gathered Robb's face in her hands. "I know, darling, it's ridiculous. Almost like how you asked me to turn off that home-shopping show because there were snakes in the backyard."

Sansa and Jon snickered as Robb grumbled about “real world menaces” and “totally different story.”

Margaery let him fume as she clapped her hands. "Well, more time for games! Into the living room everyone."

Jon ducked his head as they crossed the threshold. "Not charades. Please not charades," he muttered.

Sansa had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Jon really was awful at charades. 

"You're not so bad, Jon." She brushed his shoulder with hers. 

"Do you remember last week's stick figures?"

She did. Jon had laboriously drawn a top hat on a stick figure and then stood mute next to the easel.  They’d all stared at him blankly until the timer ran out, and he’d had to sheepishly admit it was Abraham Lincoln. Even Margaery had been at a loss for words.

"But now I know your style, Jon. We can make it work. It'll be like a secret language." Like how you figured out I was scared and kept me safe, she thought. 

As it turned out they wiped the floor with Robb and Margaery. They found their own rhythm, and Jon even high-fived her at one point when he passed her the marker. 

In the end, though, Jon hustled out, like he always did. Sansa's stomach sank at his usual quick exit. She couldn't just let him run away tonight. She caught him before he got to the door. 

"Hey, um....thanks, for all that."

The floral wallpaper made the foyer seem small. They were alone briefly. It was chilly outside, but the entryway was snug and warm. 

Jon looked uncomfortable as he tugged on his grey jacket. "No problem. Any - anytime, Sansa." Suddenly he didn't seem to know what to do with his hands. 

"Kind of like protecting your little sister or something, right?" There was her perky cheerleader voice. She only wavered on the last word. 

Jon's eyes were a shade darker. Sansa could see the snow falling through the glass plate in the door. He was quiet, so quiet Sansa thought she might sink into the floor from embarrassment. 

Jon finally frowned. "No. No. It's not like that. Sansa, I–" 

Margaery burst in on them. "Oh, sorry! You two look like you're having a moment."

Robb was right behind her. "Yeah, what's going on?" His Big Brother voice was in full effect.

"Just telling Sansa I appreciated the help," Jon murmured, and he was out the door before Sansa could get another word in. 

Sansa sighed. She was in for a whole week of wondering what Jon had been about to say.

But Robb and Margaery broke up the very next day. Movie nights were over. And now, Sansa had no way to learn what Jon had meant. 


End file.
